The Sound of You and Me
by singyourmelody
Summary: Austin and Ally, together. "This is how you want to spend your Friday night?" she asks as she watches him stand on the lower bar of grocery cart, gliding it forward and spinning it around on two wheels. "Ooh, Fruit Loops. We need those," he insists. A short series as Austin and Ally begin dating.
1. Our Futures Were Written

"The Sound of You and Me"

by: singyourmelody

Disclaimer: Don't own Austin & Ally characters. A few musical disclaimers: story title is from "The Sound of You and Me" by Yellowcard. This section's title is taken from "Next To Me" by Sleeping at Last and the song Austin and Ally sing is One Republic's "If I Lose Myself Tonight." This picks up right after the most recent episode, "Partners and Parachutes."

I'm trying something kind of different for this story: a series of short ficlets about different parts of Austin and Ally's relationship now that they are together. Some may be longer than others and I'm not sure how many there will be, but we'll see! I'm always really interested to read stories about couples who are together. What does their relationship look like? How do they solve problems? Falling in love is great, but what is it that keeps them there?

* * *

**I.** **Our Futures Were Written With Crayons In Coloring Books**  
** (misspelled and outside the lines and we loved how it looked)**

The first song they write after they get together is absolutely, completely and utterly . . .

"Horrible," she says as she sets her head down on the piano.

"It's not that bad," he offers from the chair next to her, his fingers mindlessly wandering over the strings of his guitar.

"Not that bad? That chord you just played sounds better than this entire song."

He grimaces a little, but eventually nods in agreement.

"I know, I know," she says, throwing her hands in the air. "What is our problem?"

He shrugs. "Maybe we're putting too much pressure on ourselves?"

"But you've got that big awards show performance coming up and I know Jimmy's going to start talking about your sophomore album soon and-"

"And we've got your music to be thinking of too," he interrupts.

Her worry lines smooth into a small smile as he says that.

"That too," she says.

"So maybe we just need to take it back to basics?" he suggests. "This song we're trying to write is what, like eight minutes long? And has three variations of the chorus and two bridges and a key change and maybe it's just too . . ."

"Complicated," she finishes for him.

"Right."

"Right. Basics." She starts playing an all too familiar melody. "They wanna know, know, know your name, name, name. They want the girl, girl, girl with game, game, game. And when they look, look, look your way, way, way ,you gotta make, make, make 'em do a double take," she sings.

She turns and grins at him.

"Very funny."

"What? It's the theft that started it all."

"Are you ever going to forgive me for that?" he asks.

She pretends to think about it for a moment. "Nope."

He laughs and she laughs and it's kind of perfect.

They sit in silence for a moment before he has an idea. He sets his guitar down and moves next to her on the piano bench.

"Okay, let's stop stressing about our own songs for a minute. Why don't we play something we're listening to right now?"

"That could work. What's currently on the iPod of the great Austin Moon?" she asks, moving to the couch where his cell, keys, and iPod are sitting.

She scrolls through his top songs. "Imagine Dragons, Bruno Mars, Calvin Harris, Rihanna?" she asks, surprised.

"Hey, that 'Stay' song is perfect. Chris Brown really did a number on her emotionally," he defends.

She laughs. "Did Dez tell you that?"

"It's there in the lyrics and the way her voice cracks and the raw emotion she shows, Ally," he states.

"Okay loverboy," she concedes as she continues looking. "Oh, I love this song. I actually just downloaded the sheet music for it yesterday." She sets the iPod down and rummages through her backpack.

"Got it!" she says as she returns to her seat next to him. Slowly, she begins to play and on cue, he begins to sing.

_I stared up at the sun  
Thought of all other people, places and things I've loved  
I stared up just to see  
Of all other faces, you are the one next to me  
You can feel the light start to tremble  
Washing what you know out to sea yeah  
You can see your life out of the window, tonight_

As he begins the chorus, she starts to sing with him. Effortlessly, he slips into the harmony part.

_If I lose myself tonight  
It'll be by your side  
If I lose myself tonight_

_If I lose myself tonight_  
_It'll be you and I_  
_Lose myself tonight_

She holds the last chord and turns to look up at him.

He's staring at her intently and in the past, it would make her feel awkward and uncomfortable and thrilled and nervous but now . . . well now she still feels all those things but she feels something else too. He's allowed to look at her like that now. And she's allowed to look at him. It's not unspoken or unrequited. He doesn't belong to someone else. And they are on the same page, finally.

"I'm glad you're the one next to me, Ally," he says.

"Me too."

He leans closer to her and she can feel his breath on her lips when Dez opens the door.

They spring apart.

"Dez!"

"Ally, your dad wanted me to let you know that the new shipment is in," he says and then he's gone just as quickly as he appeared.

She sighs and her eyes flick down to his mouth, back up to his eyes. "Finish this later?"

He nods and follows her out the door.

They unload boxes for the better part of an hour and collapse on the couch in the practice room afterwards.

"I can't feel my arms," she murmurs, burying her face into his shoulder.

He shifts so that he can lean towards her. "Can you feel this?" he whispers, his eyes slowly closing as he comes closer.

She pulls back, laughing. "Really, Austin? That was so so bad."

"What? I thought it was kind of smooth," he defends, but soon he's laughing too. "Okay, okay, I should know by now that my usual lines don't work with you."

She shakes her head. "Nope. You're gonna have to work much harder than that."

He raises his hand and she thinks he's going to tuck some hair behind her ear or run his hand down the side of her face, he's started doing both of those things more now, but instead he uses his pointer finger to tap her on the nose. "Challenge accepted."

She scoffs and stands up. "Well then. Back to work, hmm?"

He groans a little, but follows her back to the piano.

"What if we take it line by line?" she suggests. "We cut out the parts that just aren't working and see if we can salvage something. If not, we cut our losses and start from scratch."

"Sounds good."

He picks up the guitar and they argue over word choice and chord progression and tempo and how many bridges the song really needs, but three hours later they have one verse completed and most of the chorus created.

"Ugh, why is this so hard?" she says as they walk out of Sonic Boom and she turns off lights behind her.

"Because you're a perfectionist."

"And you're a slacker."

"I'm here now, aren't I?" he asks.

"And I'm letting this song go for now, aren't I?" she counters.

He looks down, a small smile tugging at his mouth.

"We're learning, huh?" he says and she shuts the door behind her, turning the key in the lock.

"I guess we are."

She drops the keys into her bag and grabs his hand as they walk towards her house.

He's humming the song from earlier and she takes a deep breath. The sky is cloudless and the moon is full, making everything seem a bit brighter. She's not even sure they need the streetlights to see where they are going, and in the clearness of this night she can see the various shades of his hair and the glint of his brown eyes and that tiny scar on the left side of his nose.

And she realizes that it wouldn't matter even if they were in darkness because she trusts him. She knows that this person holding so tightly onto her right hand isn't leading or following, but walking right beside her as her partner, her match.

She stops walking then but doesn't let go of his hand, so he sort of swings around and faces her.

"What-" he starts, but doesn't finish because she steps forward and kisses him and doesn't let go.

* * *

_Thanks for reading and reviewing. Love to all._


	2. This is Your Heart

"The Sound of You and Me"

by: singyourmelody

Disclaimer: Don't own Austin & Ally characters. A few musical disclaimers: story title is from "The Sound of You and Me" by Yellowcard. This section's title is taken from "Laura Palmer" by Bastille.

I'm trying something kind of different for this story: a series of short ficlets about different parts of Austin and Ally's relationship now that they are together. Some may be longer than others and I'm not sure how many there will be, but we'll see! I'm always really interested to read stories about couples who are together. What does their relationship look like? How do they solve problems? Falling in love is great, but what is it that keeps them there?

* * *

**II. This is Your Heart**

**(can you feel it?**** can you feel it?)**

"Those aren't pajamas," she says when he opens the door. She points to his jeans and hoodie and then looks down to her own flannel pants and fuzzy slippers.

"You said this was a movie night pj party. Where are your pjs?" she asks, as she enters his house, carrying two grocery bags filled to the brim with soda, popcorn, and candy.

"Um . . ."

She sets down the bags and gives him the look.

He knows that look well and she knows how to use it.

Sighing, he follows her up the stairs to his room.

"If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right," she says, smirking.

He pulls out two pairs of pajama pants and holds them up.

"Blue. Definitely blue."

"Oh, definitely, huh?" he asks, teasingly.

She stands on her tiptoes so that she can better look him in the eye. "Definitely."

Something flashes in his eyes and she knows that look. It's the one that makes her acutely aware of that beating thing in her chest, pounding harder and harder, like a mallet on a tympani. He smiles and leans a little closer before saying, "So are you gonna let me change or what?"

She stumbles back a bit and awkwardly giggles. "Right. Change. Um, I'll be downstairs."

Five minutes later, he finds her in his kitchen, organizing brownies on a platter while simultaneously shaking jiffy pop over the oven burner.

"I love jiffy pop!" he exclaims, taking over the shaking duties.

"I know. You told me once." She looks at the clock on the wall. "When are Trish and Dez getting here anyway? They're pretty late."

"Oh, um, I actually told them 8:30," he says.

"You did? But you told me 8:00," she asks, moving to stand next to him, as the silver packet fills with freshly popped corn, kernels crackling and releasing a scent of buttery warmth.

"Yeah, I know. I wanted some time with just the two of us."

She smiles a little at his words, both a happy and yet somewhat somber smile. "I love that."

He grins at her and pushes one of the curls that had fallen out of her messy bun behind her ear.

"I think it's done," she says, as the snapping crackles start to fade away. "Ready?"

He moves the pan off of the stove and she helps him navigate it to a large bowl.

"Ooh, hot! Hot!" she exclaims as she peels over the silver balloon and the popcorn tumbles out.

"You okay?" he asks.

She nods and hops up onto the counter, next to the bowl. They eat in silence for a moment.

"This is so good," he says.

"Mmmhmm. Hey, how'd your World History test go today?"

"Not bad. I'd say a solid C+."

Her eyes widen.

"I know in the Ally Dawson land of perpetual genius, a C+ is the same as failing, but for me, I'm good with it," he says, shrugging a little.

"Nice use of 'perpetual genius.'"

"Thanks," he says before releasing a small groan. "Let's not talk about school. It's Friday night."

"What would you propose we do instead?" she asks.

He saunters closer to her and she realizes the look that has returned. "I could think of a few things."

"I'm listening."

He stands in front of her and almost involuntarily she opens her legs so that he can get closer to her. Slowly, he places his hands on her waist and she wraps hers around his neck.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi."

He kisses her then and it's quick and impatient and she momentarily thinks of how much better they've gotten at this. How she now knows what to do to make him groan ever so slightly in the back of his throat and how he has intimate knowledge of that one spot right behind her ear that when he kisses it, makes it hard for her to breathe. They know each other in this way now too and it's just another thing that reminds her that they are each other's person. Friends, partners, love- it's all there.

She moves her lips from his mouth and starts kissing down his chin, eventually moving to his neck.

"I should kiss you while you're sitting on the counter more often," he says in between breaths. "You're so much higher up. Better access."

She pulls back then. "Better access? I'm not some sort of vending machine that you have to fight through a crowd to get to," she says, laughing.

He stares at her for a second.

"You're thinking of food now, aren't you?"

"It's scary how well you know me sometimes," he states.

She rolls her eyes and kisses him again but the doorbell rings and they spring apart.

"Saved by the bell?" she asks.

"True. You look like you could use a cool down," he says, winking and backing away from her, heading towards the foyer.

She hops off the counter and follows him. "I could use a cool down? Me?" She looks at his face. If hers mirrors his at all, pink cheeks and small reminders, then he's probably right. They both could use a cool down.

He goes to open the door, but she stops him. "You have a little lip gloss right here," she says, wiping it off the side of his mouth. "And here. And a little on your neck." She gives him a quick once over. "Okay, good."

He smiles and opens the door to find their other two best friends. And their stuffed animals. And pillows. And sleeping bags. And snuggies.

"Are you guys moving in?" he asks.

"This is a _party,_ is it not?" Dez questions.

"Guess who got a job at Snuggie Snanctuary?" Trish says, holding up matching snuggies for each of them.

They spend the next hour debating which movie to watch before settling on _The Sandlot_.

Dez quotes most of the film. "You're killing me, Smalls!" "You call that pitching? This is baseball, not tennis!" "The Beast!"

He and Dez get into a lengthy discussion of which part of Wendy Peffercorn is the hottest (her long blonde hair wins out) and she sheds a small tear when the movie reveals a grown up Smalls and Benny still doing the thing they loved, baseball, years later. Trish falls asleep fifteen minutes in.

As the credits roll, Dez begs them to let him wake Trish up and they carry the now-empty bowls and soda cans to the kitchen. They hear a brief scream (Trish) and then a long, low one (Dez) followed by some muffled cries (again Dez) and the door slamming shut.

"Are they gonna be okay?" she asks, peering into the hallway.

"They're Trish and Dez. When are they not okay?"

"True."

They wash the few dishes and put away the drinks and he shuts the refrigerator door and says, "Are we ever gonna talk about it?"

She stops what she's doing and turns to look at him.

"Talking about it means saying it out loud and saying it loud means it's real," she says. "I don't want it to be real for us. Not just yet."

"But I leave in two weeks," he says.

"I know. And it's gonna be great. A tour all up and down the east coast. I can't even imagine what this is going to do for your career, Austin. It's gonna be the best possible thing, I know that. And I'll be busy with school and writing music and I just. . . I just. . . I just don't even know what to say," she finally stutters out.

"Me either."

"Three months is a long time."

"I know. That why I wanted to do this tonight. I just want to spend as much time with you and Dez and Trish as possible," he states.

She nods. "Okay, then. We cram in as much Team Austin time as we can before you go." She gives him a half smile.

"And as much Austin and Ally time as possible."

"I'd like that."

He hugs her then and she can feel his chest rising and falling and she thinks that maybe that's a melody all its own. The crescendo and decrescendo, the build and the inevitable fall. That's what great music is made of, right?

She sits down to her keyboard when she gets home later that night and writes a new song. She thinks that maybe he can open his tour with it. The music will swell and the anticipation will build, his fans will clap and the cameras will flash, and this, it's their dream come true.

She can't wait to see it.

* * *

_Thanks for reading and reviewing. Love to all._


	3. Where We Don't Know, Though We Can't See

"The Sound of You and Me"

by: singyourmelody

Disclaimer: Don't own Austin & Ally characters. A few musical disclaimers: story title is from "The Sound of You and Me" by Yellowcard. This section's title is taken from "Never Be Ready" by Mat Kearney. The song Ally sings is "Hello My Old Heart" by The Oh Hellos and it's amazing and I highly recommend a listen.

I'm trying something kind of different for this story: a series of short ficlets about different parts of Austin and Ally's relationship now that they are together. What does their relationship look like? How do they solve problems? Falling in love is great, but what is it that keeps them there?

* * *

**III. Where We Don't Know, Though We Can't See**

**(just walk on down this road with me****)**

"And this is my room," he says, sliding the card in and then out and holding the door open for her.

She walks in and takes in the double beds, small desk, television, lamps.

"It's nice?"

"Yeah, I know, it's just like every other hotel room. Apparently you don't get the penthouse until you're super famous."

"I like it. It fits you for right now," she says, before laying on one of the beds. He moves to lie next to her.

"Your ceiling is really sparkly."

"I'm really glad you're here."

She turns her head. "Me too. I only wish I could stay longer."

"I know. You only got to see me perform once and we didn't have a chance to do much sightseeing," he says.

"Um, I got to see you perform in _New York City_. I think that pretty much trumps everything. How did it feel by the way? I don't think I asked you."

He props himself up with one elbow so that he can see her better. "Amazing. It might have been the biggest crowd I've ever performed for. Except for New Year's Eve, of course. They were all there to see me sing. It was just . . . crazy."

"Crazy good, right?"

He nods. "Crazy crazy good."

She laughs and gives him a small nudge. "That doesn't even make sense."

He laughs too and it's a small, insignificant moment, but one that she files away under "forever."

She sits up and he follows.

"What time is your flight?" he asks.

"Nine."

He groans. "Seriously, your dad wouldn't let you miss one day of school?"

She shakes her head.

"Sucks."

"Yeah. Not all of us can be privately tutored, ahem. How are Charles and Patrice anyway?" she asks, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"Oh you know, torturous."

"What? I thought you said they were easier on you then your regular teachers. . ."

"They were! For like the first week. I think they were trying to figure out what level I was at or something because then they totally cracked down. I'm writing like four papers a week and I can barely keep up with the math regimen they've got me on. It's awful, Ally," he says, flashing her his saddest face.

She laughs. "You poor thing, actually having to _try_ in school."

"And perform like every night and travel all the time. . ."

"And meet thousands of adoring fans and see amazing places like New York and D.C. . . You're not gonna get sympathy from me, Austin Moon," she states.

"Such a hardass," he mumbles under his breath.

She scoffs and heads towards the door.

"Wait! You aren't leaving yet, are you?" he protests.

She turns back to him. "My flight leaves pretty early and I should probably be heading to bed."

"But you just got here today and you leave tomorrow and . . ." And he doesn't finish his sentence because he doesn't even know what he's trying to say. He just wants to be near her.

She turns back to the door and he's pretty sure she's gonna walk out, without so much as a goodbye, which might break him into a million pieces.

Instead, she reaches up and locks the deadbolt.

And then the lock on the door handle.

"You do realize you are on this side of that locked door, right?" he asks.

She turns back to him and smiles. "Mmhmm." She walks closer to him. "It's like you said. I got here today. I leave tomorrow. Which leaves . . ."

"Right now?"

"Right now. So I am not going to go back to that hotel room that my dad paid for, sorry dad. I am going to stay right here with you and before you even think it, please lower those raised eyebrows, we are not doing _that_ tonight," she states, with clear confidence.

"I wasn't thinking that," he insists and she laughs.

"Come on. I just locked myself in a room with you. Alone. You can at least admit you were thinking it."

"Okay, maybe a little," he admits. "But I didn't think it was a good idea."

She squeezes his hand and looks into his eyes. "Someday."

He nods and she nods and it's an unspoken agreement that they will define _someday_ together.

He looks at the clock. By the time his show finished and he met his fans and they grabbed some food and made it back to the hotel, it was after eleven.

"So what are we doing with the rest of right now?" he asks.

**11:59 PM**

They count down the seconds to midnight like it's New Year's Eve. She's looking out the window and she swears she can see Times Square, although he thinks it's just a bunch of lighted signs. As the red numbers of the clock turn, they toast the new day with coffee from the small pot on his desk but she only manages to swallow one swig.

"That is truly awful," she says.

He takes a sip and nods.

"Happy New Day," he says, dumping the rest down his bathroom sink drain.

She follows him and pours out her own cup. "Happy New Day," she says, before reaching up and kissing him quickly.

He grins at her, before leaning forward and saying "You taste like crappy coffee."

"Mmm, so do you."

"Guess we match then."

"Guess so."

**12:45 AM**

She pulls out a deck of cards, because she's Ally, and of course she has a deck of cards on hand.

She suggests Rummy.

He suggests Speed.

She concedes and he ends up with a quarter-sized purple bruise on his left hand and a watermelon-sized one on his ego.

"Not fair. You didn't tell me you were like some sort of Speed Master," he complains.

"I prefer Speed Mistress, please. And you never asked."

"Right, because I should have asked you about every single card game to see how good you were," he mutters.

She shrugs. "I don't know, you could've. I kind of like that there are still some things we don't know about each other."

He thinks about that for a moment. "I guess you're right."

"I am sorry about your hand," she insists. "Sometimes I get a little competitive." She blinks up at him with wide eyes and he scowls.

"You don't get to give me the big 'I'm sorry' eyes, because I can't not forgive you when you do that."

"Come on, you know you can't not forgive me ever. It's the same way for me with you. That's how this works," she says.

"Hmm. I'm surprised you kept the double negative," he says and he loves the look of shock that comes over her face.

"Did you just . . .? I am gonna have to meet this Charles and Patrice someday," she says and he can't help but laugh.

**1:24 AM**

He lazily flips on the TV as she grabs a pillow and conforms it to the space under her chin.

They are lying on their stomachs, side by side.

He turns and looks back at his socked feet and then her bare ones.

"You're so much shorter than me."

"You're just noticing this?" she asks.

"No, I notice it all the time. Like when I try to hug you or kiss you or just stand next to you."

"I sometimes wear heels," she says.

"I know; it's just an observation."

They lie there in silence for a moment.

"I really did love your show tonight. The opening song fit perfectly just like I thought it would. And of course, you performed flawlessly. It was," she closes her eyes, "just how I dreamed it would be."

"I was really nervous."

She opens her eyes then. "You were? But you're never nervous."

"I was tonight."

"Why?"

He looks directly at her and she realizes that he doesn't even have to say it.

"Really?" she asks.

"Yeah."

"But I've seen your sing more times that I can count. Were you nervous then?"

"No, not then."

"Then why now?" she asks.

"Because I've realized that out of all the people in this world, all the billions and billions everywhere, I care about your opinion the most," he says, simply, matter- of-factly, as if he was telling someone on the street the time or ordering a plate of pancakes. "And I couldn't handle it if you hated something that I had worked so hard at."

She bites her lip as her mind tries to process his words. "I could never hate something you love so much," she says.

And it's truth.

**2:15 AM**

"You cannot tell me that you'd rather watch the infomercial for the Chillow over the Sham Wow. The Sham Wow commercial goes down in history as one of the best infomercials ever!" she insists.

He looks to the television screen where middle aged people are struggling to sleep on their hot, deformed pillows.

"I don't know, there's something about the Chillow that I find strangely fascinating," he insists.

She moans in frustration. "Is it the sweaty people unable to sleep? Because I find that kind of gross. Okay, I am going to ask you a question and I want you to think very carefully about how you answer. Our entire future relationship could depend on it."

He narrows his eyes and rubs his hands together. "Alright, I'm ready for it."

"Given the choice between watching twenty-four hours of Snuggie commercials and I'm talking all sorts of Snuggie commercials, even the specialty Snuggies that are camo and stuff, given the choice between that and watching twenty-four hours of Billy Mays selling you OxiClean and Kaboom, which would you pick?" she asks dramatically. She's on her knees on the bed now, eagerly looking at him.

"A tough choice. . ."

"I know."

"I see merits of both options. . ."

"No stalling."

"I'd have to go with Billy Mays. For sentimental reasons of course, may he rest in peace. But seriously, man knew how to sell everything," he states. He looks anxiously at her for a moment, then two. . .

. . . before she throws her arms around him.

"Future relationship saved," she says into his shoulder.

"Phew."

**3:05 AM**

"I'm getting sleepy," she murmurs, her eyes half closed.

They are propped up against the headboard and her head is resting on his shoulder.

"You can sleep if you want to," he says.

But she shakes her head and forces herself to sit up. "I'm not going to see you again for like what 42 days?"

"41 now," he corrects.

"Why is this so hard?" she whispers and he doesn't have an answer for her.

**3:38 AM**

_Hello my old heart  
How have you been?  
Are you still there inside my chest?  
I've been so worried, you've been so still  
Barely beating at all_

_Oh, don't leave me here alone_  
_Don't tell me that we've grown for having loved a little while_  
_Oh, I don't wanna be alone_  
_I wanna find a home and I wanna share it with you_

_Hello my old heart_  
_It's been so long since I've given you away_  
_And every day I add another stone to the walls I've built around you to keep you safe_

_Oh, don't leave me here alone_  
_Don't tell me that we've grown for having loved a little while_  
_Oh, I don't wanna be alone_  
_I wanna find a home and I wanna share it with you_

She finishes singing and looks up at him as he stares at her.

"I know it's really different from anything we normally write, but I thought maybe since you are touring, I should start thinking about my music and this is more me, I think, don't you?" she explains and she's talking really fast, trying to fill up all the silence and it's all because she's unsure about this. She's sure about most everything, but not this. This is new and scary and so unlike anything she's done before.

He continues staring at her.

"Austin, please say something," she insists, looking down at her hands.

"Ally, that was amazing. And beautiful and, and _haunting_. I don't know how to put it into words. "

"I wrote it three weeks after you left. When I realized that you were really gone but that so much of you was still with me. And I don't know. This just came out," she states.

"That's your sound. It's like you captured every thought I have about you in that one song. It's completely, one hundred percent, you."

She looks like she might cry as he says that, but they are good tears.

"I haven't finished writing the bridge yet. Want to help?" she suggests.

He smirks. "I knew we weren't going to be able to spend two days together without writing a song."

She shrugs. "It's what we do."

"Yeah, it is."

**4:09 AM**

"Hello? Yes, we'd like to place an order. Room 323. Okay, we'd like two orders of french fries, two vanilla milkshakes and . . ." he props the phone up between his shoulder and chin.

"Ask for pickles!" she mouths.

"And do you have any pickles?" He pauses. "No, this is not a prank. We really would like some pickles. No, not in our milkshakes. On the side of the fries; could that work? Okay, great. Yes, Room 323. Thank you," he finishes, hanging up the phone.

"I think they think we're crazy," he says.

"Maybe we are," she says, raising one eyebrow.

"Maybe it's . . ." he turns to look at the clock, "ten after four in the morning and nothing really is making sense."

She laughs. "Or maybe everything is making sense?"

He laughs too. "I like it when you're a little loopy."

"Wait until you see me at ten after five in the morning."

He stops laughing then. "Okay."

**4:57 AM**

"I have to be at the airport in like two hours," she says.

She is lying on her side and so is he and they are facing each other with their hands linked in the middle.

He is tracing her fingers with his own.

"Let's not talk about that yet," he suggests, before he pulls her hand up to his mouth and kisses it.

Her frown melts into a small smile as he does so.

"Catch me up on what's going on back home," he says.

"Well, Dez misses you terribly of course. He's actually started hanging out more with Trish. I know, I know, I was surprised too, but on some level, they make it work. When they aren't on the verge of killing each other of course," she says and he laughs.

"As weird as this might sound, I actually miss their fighting."

"I promised to record it and send it to you when I get back. Believe me, you won't miss it for long. Trish is good. She actually has had the same job for a week and a half."

"What?" he exclaims. He thinks his eyes might be popping out of his head.

"I know! I think she has a crush on one of the guys who works there but she won't admit to anything. Oh, I see your mom and dad occasionally. They stop in the store to say hi sometimes. They really miss you."

"Tell me more."

"I don't know what else there is to tell," she says, before realizing something. Moving closer to him she asks, "Are you homesick?"

He looks down at their still entwined hands. "Is it totally lame if I say yes?"

"Of course not. You can tell me anything. It must be hard living out of hotel rooms," she says.

"I'm doing what I love, but I'm not with the people I love, you know?"

She nods.

"I know it's only for a short while, but this could just be a small taste of the rest of my life. And do I want this?" he asks, more to himself than to her.

They lie there in silence for a moment, before she starts rubbing her thumb over his hand.

"Hey, you don't have to decide anything right now. You're seventeen years old. We have no idea what comes next. How could we? Anything is possible, so don't worry about it. Just enjoy this. I want you to enjoy this, so so much," she says, and he realizes just how hard this has been for her.

"I am," he says, and she leans over him to kiss him. He kisses her back, his one hand tangling in her hair, the other pressing her closer to him and she realizes that this is the first time she's kissed him lying down. It's a lot more intimate, as she is very aware of all of the places her body is aligning with his. She feels his hipbone on her hipbone and her ribcage on his ribcage. And she knows this could be dangerous; they are locked alone in a hotel room for crying out loud, but she also knows that he would never push her to do something they weren't ready for. So she can enjoy the way his tongue feels in her mouth and the fact that her foot can rub up and down his leg and the feeling she gets when he flips her over and looks at her as if she is the most precious thing in the world to him.

She reaches up and kisses him again and they spend the next while making up for lost time.

**6:15 AM**

She opens her eyes and looks at her cell. Early. Too early.

They had fallen asleep sometime after five, facing each other, fingers intertwined and she thanks her lucky stars she was able to wake up on time.

Her dad would have not been happy if she missed her flight. He was so hesitant about letting her go in the first place.

She moves to wake him, but stops herself. Waking him means goodbyes and tears and hugs that she knows would be her last for a while.

And it's early and she's not ready for any of that, so she gathers her things as quietly as she can and unbolts the deadbolt and unlocks the door handle and slips out unnoticed.

She hates the thought of him waking up alone, so she texts him from the cab.

From: Ally  
To: Austin  
April 29, 2013, 6:24 AM

_Sorry I left so early this morning without saying goodbye._

_Last night was the most perfect night I can remember. I didn't want to ruin it with sadness this morning, because I want to preserve it, to savor every part of it._

She gets a text back from him between her connecting flights.

From: Austin  
To: Ally  
Received: April 29, 2013, 10:14 AM

_It's okay, I understand. _

_I already miss you though._

She writes back.

From: Ally  
To: Austin  
April 29, 2013, 10:17 AM

_See you on the other side of 41._

He replies.

From: Austin  
To: Ally  
April 29, 2013, 10:20 AM

_Counting. . ._

* * *

_Thanks for reading and reviewing. Love to all._


	4. This is the Part Where I Stay

"The Sound of You and Me"

by: singyourmelody

Disclaimer: Don't own Austin & Ally characters. A few musical disclaimers: story title is from "The Sound of You and Me" by Yellowcard. This section's title is taken from "Where You Are" by Gavin DeGraw.

I'm trying something kind of different for this story: a series of short ficlets about different parts of Austin and Ally's relationship now that they are together. What does their relationship look like? How do they solve problems? Falling in love is great, but what is it that keeps them there?

* * *

**IV. This is the Part Where I Stay Where I Stand**

**(tell me you're with me)**

"_This_ is how you want to spend your Friday night?" she asks as she watches him stand on the lower bar of grocery cart, gliding it forward and spinning it around on two wheels.

"Ooh, Fruit Loops. We need those," he insists, hopping off and adding the colorful box to the cart.

She crosses her arms and stares at him.

He sighs. "Okay, look, I missed this stuff. Grocery shopping and eating pizza while playing video games with Dez and moving boxes for your dad and getting yelled at by my parents. All that random stuff that was my life, I want it back."

She nods because she understands. "You're playing catch up."

"Right."

"Okay, well did you miss Sour Patch Kids?" she asks as they round the corner to the candy aisle.

He grabs three bags in response.

"And what about Reese's Pieces?"

He grins and she puts two boxes in the cart.

"And of course, the best candy on this planet. . ." she says, holding up a package of strawberry Twizzlers.

"Um, I actually don't like Twizzlers," he says, looking at the ground, the toe of his sneaker digging into the tiled floor.

Her face falls. "What."

"Yeah, I know how much you love them, but I just don't see the appeal. They don't taste like anything," he says.

"But you ate like half of my package at that movie we went to see, what was it? Oh, _Dangerous Times_."

"Wasn't that when we first started dating?"

"Yeah, I think so. . ."

He nods and stares at her.

She punches him in the shoulder. "You only pretended to like them because it was one of our first dates?"

"I wanted you to like me!" he says, rubbing his arm.

"I already did. Like a lot. You didn't have to pretend to like something just because I liked it," she says.

"I know. I'm not pretending anymore."

She narrows her eyes as if she can't decide whether or not she should be mad, so she continues walking.

He quickly comes up beside her. "Please don't be upset, Ally."

"I'm not, I'm just surprised maybe? I mean, we're at a place where we can be really honest with each other and that's a good thing, right?"

"Sure it is."

"Huh," she says and it's what they both are thinking. This honesty thing may be good but it certainly doesn't feel like it at the moment.

They continue walking down the aisle in awkward silence.

Finally he says evenly, "Yay for total honesty." He tries to laugh, but it comes out a little strained.

She turns and looks at him. "My grandma always said, 'They don't call it growing _pains_ for nothing.'" She reaches out and interlocks her fingers with his.

"Smart woman."

"Yeah."

"So, we're growing," she says.

And maybe it really is as simple as that.

They check out and as she shuts the door on the passenger side of his mom's hatchback, she says, "What else don't I know about you?"

"What do you mean?" he asks as he puts the key in the ignition and backs the car out of the spot.

"You don't like Twizzlers; what else is there?"

He thinks for a moment. "I once had a dream where I was married to Trish," he says.

"What?"

"I know. It was so weird. Like some alternate universe."

"Was I there?" she asks.

He doesn't answer at first.

"I totally was there, wasn't I?" she asks, nudging his shoulder.

"Maybe."

"Maybe. In your dream world, we aren't together and you are with _Trish_," she pauses and tries to wrap her head around this.

"Okay, now you have to tell me something about you I don't know."

"What? Why?" she asks.

"Because I am feeling super weird right now that you know this stuff about me."

"So I have to feel weird too?"

"Hey, you said we were in this together. . ." he points out.

He's right. Together is practically the mantra for their relationship.

She sighs.

"Okay. . . well, I totally freaked out when you changed your facebook status to 'In a Relationship with Ally Dawson,'" she says.

"Why?"

"Because you and I had never talked about it. Not about going like public or whatever," she explains.

"I don't understand. Everyone we knew already knew we were dating. What was the big deal?"

"Exactly. Everyone we _knew_. All these people that don't really know us now also knew that we were together. All your fans . . ." she drifts off and looks out the window.

"Oh. I hadn't really thought of that."

"I know. I figured you hadn't."

"Why didn't you say something to me about it?" he asks.

"Because it's like with the Twizzlers. Everything was still so new and we were still trying to figure this all out and what could I say? 'Please don't tell everybody we are together?' That wasn't what I really wanted," she says.

"So what did you want?" he asks, as he turns into her driveway.

"I didn't know. I was just kind of freaked out."

"And what do you want now?" he questions, shutting off the car and turning to look at her.

"I want to not feel weird about all this. I feel weird now. Thanks a lot!" she says, pointing her finger at him and giving him a small smile.

"Maybe we should take this honesty thing a little slower?" he suggests.

"You mean you _don't_ want to know all about my beauty regimen?" She says, teasingly, as she gets out of the car and begins retrieving their grocery bags.

"Um, probably not."

"And I probably don't want to know how many hours you and Dez have spent holed up in his basement playing video games," she states.

"Again, probably not. It can get kind of scary in there," he says, shutting the hatchback. They head towards her front door.

"I'm sure. So . . . slower."

"Slower," he says, as he opens the door.

They unpack their purchases and as she's reorganizing the cereal cupboard, he tosses Sour Patch Kids up into the air, catching them one-by-one in his mouth.

"You are very talented," she says, sarcastically.

"I know. Is it any wonder I am going to be rich and famous?" he quips.

She shuts the cupboard door and walks towards him. "Soon you'll have your own TV show and sneaker line and Ryan Seacrest will do E! News Special Reports on you."

"Caught the Kardashian special, did you?" he asks.

She looks down, embarrassed. "I can't help but be strangely fascinated by them and their crazy lives. And how did you know that special even existed?"

"I might have caught a bit of it."

She pokes his midsection. "Ugh, we could have watched it together!"

He laughs then. "It's not a secret shame then, is it?"

She looks at the clock and groans. "Better get back to it." She wanders over to the dining room table where her laptop and multiple piles of books are set up.

"I still can't believe you are doing homework on a Friday night," he says, flopping down on her couch. "And on only my fourth day back from tour."

"I can't help it you came back from a three-month tour the week before finals. You may be finished with your junior year, but I'm not," she says, returning to her PowerPoint.

He sticks out his tongue. "Can I help?"

"Um," she says as she saves her PowerPoint again. She's proofed and re-proofed it for about a week now. She looks to her flashcards. "You could quiz me?"

"Deal. Is this for your history exam?" he asks, as he takes a seat next to her.

"No, for my English exam. It's mostly focused on _Frankenstein_. Did you read that on tour?"

"No, we did _Scarlett Letter_ instead," he says, shuffling her flashcards.

She frowns. "I don't know what you read in class," she says, more to herself than to him.

"What?"

"I don't know what you read in class," she repeats. "I feel like we've missed a lot lately."

He looks up at her then. "We have in some ways. But I'm back now."

She nods, but doesn't look convinced.

He reaches out and takes her hand. "Hey, we have to keep talking, okay? Even when it's weird and awkward. That's the only way things will become normal again."

She smiles. "When did you become such a relationship expert?"

"Let's just say that there were quite a few nights where I was stuck in my hotel room and that certain TV stations broadcast _The Notebook_ twenty-four seven."

She laughs. He taps her flashcards. "Ready? Name three themes characteristic of The Romantic Era that are present in _Frankenstein_."

"Obsession with immortality, man acting as god, and the dangerous pursuit of knowledge," she responds.

He turns the card over. "Correct."

They continue on for the next two hours before winding up on the couch.

"You mean to tell me that this monster is made of human body parts that this Dr. Frankenstein dug up and stitched together?"

"Yeah. You really should just read the book. It was pretty interesting. Like the Zaliens of the 19th century, only with a cohesive plot and character development and, okay, maybe it's not the Zaliens of the 19th century," she says. She rubs her temples. "I'm not sure how much more I can do tonight." She picks up her book. "Paper is mostly done; I only have to finish the conclusion. PowerPoint is proofed." She crosses those items off her list. "English? Mostly studied for. History? Haven't even started but it's not until Wednesday. Oh, and I've got to get my project proposal in. Do you think I should do an Honors project for next year?"

"Depends. Does it mean more or less time you get to spend with me?" he asks.

"Austin!"

"What? I'm allowed to be a little selfish with you occasionally."

"Probably less. But, I was thinking about doing it on us," she says.

"Us? Me and you, like together?" he asks.

"No, me and you as musicians. I am proposing a study on how social media can positively affect the brand of up-and-coming musicians. Although with your current popularity on the rise, I might need to focus it on just me," she states.

He moves closer to her. "You should definitely do it on both of us."

"You just want me to pay attention to you."

He sits back. "Maybe."

She rests her head back on the couch. "I would like to pay attention to you too," she admits.

"Five days until finals are over," he says.

"And then we have the whole summer."

"Yeah."

She closes her eyes and he just watches her for a moment.

"Hey Ally?"

"Hmm?"

"I think you should do your project," he says.

"Really?" she says, looking at him.

"Yeah. This way, I can brag about how smart my girlfriend is. And also, because we need to be focusing on your music now."

"But what-?"

"I mean it. Everything we've done up until this point has been about me. And I have loved every minute of it. Working with you, writing songs, performing, all of it. But now, we should be working on your career," he states.

She grins so hard, she feels like her face might be cracking in two. "Really?"

"Heck, yes."

She squeals and throws her arms around his neck. And then she's kissing him and she's practically straddling him, trying to get closer and his hand is wandering up the bottom of her shirt, fingers tracing along the back of her ribcage.

Her eyes are closed and he's kissing along her collarbone when it slips out.

"I love you."

She pulls back and looks at him.

His eyes are wide and so are hers and this feels like a pivotal moment.

"Yeah?" she asks.

And he decides that it's too late to go back now and really, he doesn't want to.

"Yeah."

"I love you, too," she says and then it's more kissing and hands everywhere and sharing the same air and she decides she's done more than enough studying for tonight.

She falls asleep curled up next to him as reruns of "Kim and Kourtney Take Miami" play on the television . . .

. . . meaning that she wakes up next to him for the second time in her life.

She nudges him awake with her head.

"Mornin'," he says, rubbing his eyes.

"Hi."

He squints at her. "You've been up for a while haven't you?"

She nods. "I slept really well."

"Me too. I actually haven't slept that well since you came to see me in New York."

"Want some breakfast?"

"Where's your dad?" he asks, sitting up and ignoring her question.

"Conference in Tampa."

"You mean, I spent the night at your house and your dad wasn't even here?" he asks.

"Yeah?" she says.

"Oh man. I hope my mom and dad don't find out," he says, running his hand through his hair.

"You did say you missed them yelling at you. . ."

"That doesn't mean I want it to happen in the near future!"

"Nothing happened; don't worry about it," she says.

He raises one eyebrow. "Nothing happened? Nothing at all?"

She blushes a bit and he momentarily thinks about how he loves that he can do that to her.

"Okay, maybe some stuff happened. But not stuff that your parents should know about!" she cries.

He grins.

"Stop smirking," she says.

"You know you love me," he states.

"No, you love me."

"You love me."

"You said it first," she says.

"Damn."

She stands then and offers him her hand. Pulling him up, she leads him into the kitchen.

"Maybe we could just focus on being together and all the other things will work themselves out?" she asks, as she starts gathering the ingredients for pancakes.

He thinks back to their many, many conversations from the night before, of the work they still need to do, of the desire they have to do it. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

_Thanks for reading and reviewing. Love to all._


End file.
